


Offense Is The Best Defense

by jhead



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Costume Kink, Denial of Feelings, Dominance, F/F, Flashbacks, Gloves, Kayfabe Compliant, Military Background, Pre-Femslash, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 05:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14969981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhead/pseuds/jhead
Summary: Lacey Evans tries to deal with the pain of defeat at the hands of the Pirate Princess. (It's definitely pain she feels, yes.) Set in the immediate aftermath of their NXT match on June 6, 2018.





	Offense Is The Best Defense

**Author's Note:**

> Not a play-by-play, more a play on certain key spots and moments. We need more Lacey love up in here.
> 
> Apologies for any lapses or misrepresentation of USMC protocol.

Lacey Evans was... _offended_.

It may have seemed an odd reaction, given her circumstances. Then again, how could she _not_ be? A **woman** of her caliber deserved so much better than this awful place, this awful situation. 

The canvas was hard and damp from shared sweat, sticking to her knotted back. The shrill cheers of the delusional NXT Universe filled the humid air, drowning the echo of the ring bell and assaulting her ears. The pain in her chest was spreading outwards - throbbing, and strangely warm, but for damn sure agonizing. 

And most offensive of all, in the corner of her eye like a speck of lint, Kairi Sane was looming, arm raised. The winner.

Well, 'looming' wasn't _quite_ the right term. She was too damn tiny, annoyingly petite, to 'loom'. 'Looming' required stature, required _presence_ \- qualities that Lacey herself had in spades. She had to concede that Kairi had looked _somewhat_ striking as she had stood atop the turnbuckle a moment ago - balanced, taut, coiled. And that she had felt anything _but_ 'petite' when she had driven her entire weight into Lacey's chest, like a grenade going off, like a ship's anchor... _stupid_. Lacey wondered how something so tiny could hurt her so much.

The warmth in her chest was spreading. Lacey could deal with pain, though. She'd been trained. She was a military woman, a mother; a badass. Pain was fine.

 _Defeat_ was less than fine. Especially at the hands of that little pipsqueak. Especially when Lacey's own mistakes had been her undoing.

...

The match had been hers for the taking. She'd planned it all so well, taken her time in dreaming up her mind games. It had been troublesome to write Kairi's name on her fist so it could be read properly, and she had needed to use a mirror, but she had managed it. The nasty marker ink on her fine skin was a small price to pay. She'd practiced flexing her signature pose for a while, pleased with herself: how she looked like a pinup come to life, how her femininity and her power were so undeniable. She was a _real lady_. Her image belonged on the side of a fighter plane, on a giant recruitment poster, on the sails of a great vessel... 

Her entrance had gone perfectly. The camera had lingered on her; the playful - _menacing_ \- peeling of her lace glove to reveal the name had looked irresistible, she was sure. A slightly less _ladylike_ gesture than she would normally grant to the audience, but it had to be clear. She had known Kairi Sane was watching. Lacey had wanted her to see.

...Wanted her _opponent_ to know what was coming.

...

Darn it, that elbow drop sure **hurt**.

...

...And this was what offended her, most surely. She had given the undeserving crowd an entrance worthy of a _real_ woman, and then Kairi Sane had wandered down the ramp dressed like a pirate. Kairi Sane was **not** a real pirate. That wheel wasn't even attached to anything. She had climbed up the turnbuckles, saluting like an idiot, not even the proper form, and Lacey had been fired up, unable to stop from smirking at the sheer stupidity of it all. She had licked her lips. 

But then, suddenly, Kairi wasn't a pirate anymore. She had shed the hat and coat, and underneath had been a very curious - _distasteful_ \- mix of bright neon and black. She had worn fingerless gloves, black leather. Lacey had decided she looked like something from those idiotic video games the knuckleheads at the barracks used to play. She could never even hope to compete with Lacey's own womanly charms, and Lacey had flicked her tongue in disdain, before remembering her manners. 

Highly _offensive_ , that outfit had been. Too much. And that _hair_. 

Lacey's gaze had reeled from the colours, so she had focused on Kairi's exposed midriff, or her thighs, where the black leather met smooth tanned skin - where there was some respite. Distracting. A pretty young woman like that, so fit and well put together, with such amazing skin, and _that's_ how she chose to dress. A shame. _Offensive_.

Kairi had seen her name on Lacey's fist. Lacey had made sure of it. She had been on top of Kairi, straddling her. A dominant position. Full mount, like in drills. And she had ground her knuckles into Kairi's face. Not too hard. Enough to leave a mark on her. Enough so that Kairi could not help but see her name there, if she hadn't already.

Kairi had not been pleased. She had grabbed Lacey's hand, trapped it on the ground, and stamped on it. Pain had shot through Lacey's digits and up her arm, like an electric shock. She had felt oddly disappointed then, probably because her signature strike had been weakened. She had wondered in that moment why she'd written Kairi's name on her own body at all. The pain had stung her eyes. 

Kairi had refused to quit, refused to stay down, after that. Not even when Lacey had beaten and grounded her, when she had grappled her to the mat, trapping her arms, bending Kairi's writhing body over her knee, submitting her, brushing that stupid colored hair off her face so Kairi could see and hear exactly what Lacey thought of her... she had kept fighting, kept kicking out. 

Even when Lacey had pinned her with a _press-up_ \- so confident, strong, powerful, dominant - skin to skin, her fingers leaving indentations in Kairi's sweat-flecked midriff, Kairi had _still_ kicked out, and Lacey's discipline had slipped. She had made mistakes. 

Why had she gone so high-risk? Twisting moonsaults and other fancy moves were for the wannabes and the show-offs; they had no place in a fight. Lacey was better than that. Smarter. More ladylike. 

Kairi had been down on the mat again. There was no reason to take such a chance.

Lacey had seen Kairi do her supposedly-famous elbow drop before: in training at the PC; in the Mae Young Classic, where defeat had stung Lacey before, even as Kairi fought on to victory; and in the many videos Lacey had looked up when Kairi had come to NXT. A smart competitor always scouts her opponents, after all. She had watched and re-watched those videos a lot. There was grace and beauty and power in them, Lacey thought, though she was never quite sure why, or how.

Besides: grace, beauty and power were under Lacey's domain now. She was the keeper, the standard-bearer. And so she had leapt from the turnbuckle and tried to fly - to show Kairi how a real woman does it - but had met nothing but the unforgiving canvas. She had felt the match slip away from her with every strike and knockdown she endured, until finally she had the briefest chance to witness Kairi in mid-air, almost frozen in time, before the world had erupted in a white ball of pain.

...

 _Pain_. That was what Lacey felt now, she decided, lying there on the canvas. A warm sort of pain, engulfing her body, out into her tingling limbs, tightening her stomach, quickening her pulse. With it, that lingering sense of _offense_ remained - that her skill had fallen short; that her plans had been thwarted; that her discipline had faltered. 

And offense that Kairi Sane, still just barely visible from Lacey's vantage point, bathed in light and the cheers of the crowd, remained humble and gracious - _beautiful_ \- even in victory. 

...Just like a real lady should. 

The pain stung Lacey's eyes again.


End file.
